Can't Escape Destiny
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: When she's told she will be wed the following evening, Princess Astoria decides she would rather run.:: Drastoria, royalty!au for Maedelle


_For the lovely Maedelle via gift tag: Drastoria royalty!au_

 _Ferris Wheel: Drastoria_

 _Tattoo Booth: glorious, royalty!au, silver_

 _Balloon Wall: "I just want this to be over."_

 _Word Count: 2065_

* * *

Astoria would love more than anything to stamp her foot and rage, but she cannot. After all, she is a princess, and princesses do not throw tantrums. Instead, her dark blue eyes are fixed upon her mother, and her plump lips twist into a scowl. "Terribly sorry, Mother," she says sweetly, "but I think I've misunderstood you. It sounded like you said I'm getting married tomorrow evening."

Her mother folds her slender arms over chest and raises her dark eyebrows. "You've heard me correctly, Astoria," she assures her. "I know there _should_ be a courtship, but this alliance is crucial for our rule. There is no time for such formalities, unfortunately."

Astoria shakes her head. It's hardly fair! Daphne has already taken a husband, and she and Blaise will be the next to rule the kingdom. Why should Astoria be burdened with marriage?

Before Astoria can protest, her mother cuts across her. "The Malfoys have already arrived," she says. "Millicent is waiting to fit you for your gown. I will hear no more of this; is that understood?"

It doesn't matter that Astoria is a princess and can argue freely with most anyone. Her mother is still the queen, and Astoria has no choice but to comply. Lips pressed into a hard, thin line, she nods.

…

"You're so lucky," Millicent sighs wistfully as her pudgy hands work with surprising grace tugging the lace and positioning it. "Marrying a prince is like a real life fairytale."

Astoria sighs heavily. She supposes it's easy to fantasize about such things when someone isn't actually living it. But this is _her_ reality. She isn't some naive damsel, eagerly awaiting a prince to rescue her and make her fall in love. She is a woman with goals and dreams, and she wants to be so much more than a future queen forced to marry out of necessity.

Rather than telling her servant this, she just smiles. "A fairytale," she echoes, and she's grateful the bitterness doesn't bleed into her voice.

It isn't so bad, and she knows it. Her parents' marriage had been a political arrangement, and they are very much in love after all this time.

But she wants something more. Astoria has always enjoyed the luxuries of being a princess, and maybe she's crazy for wanting more. After all, what else could she want? As a princess, she has everything she could ever dream of.

And yet she still wants something she doubts she will ever find.

"There." Millicent gently grips Astoria's shoulders and turns her to face the mirror.

Astoria's jaw drops. The ivory material is beautiful, and it clings to her body, accenting the gentle curves of her hips. She was been to many events and worn many fine gowns, but nothing quite compares to this.

Still, despite it all, seeing herself all dressed in white, knowing that she has no choice but to marry some stranger terrifies her, and a plot begins to form in her head. It's ridiculous and impossible, but she thinks she can pull it off.

She will run so far from this life and never look back.

…

Sneaking out is easy enough. One thing her sister taught her is that the guards can be easily bought. A few gold coins, and they're happy to look the other way.

There's a spring in her step as her long legs carry her across the castle grounds. She doesn't know where she'll go, but she will be free from the burdens and stress of nobility. Her plump lips tug into a smile, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to let out a triumphant cry.

She's practically sprinting to the stables, her light cloak beating gently against her with each step. Freedom is so close that she can practically taste it.

"Ah, good," she says, removing her cloak and folding it before draping over her arm when she enters the stables. "I was hoping someone would be here."

The young man turns, pink creeping into his pale cheeks. Astoria doesn't recognize him, but that's hardly surprising. She has never had use for a horse this late. The blond stable boy must be the one who prepares the horses for the hunts.

"Fetch me a horse," she says, tugging anxiously at her dark curls. "Any horse will do."

His brows raise. "I beg your pardon?"

Astoria recoils. No one has ever used such a sharp tone with her. She rests a hand over her heart and takes a deep breath, reminding herself that she ought to keep her composure. "I told you to fetch a horse," she repeats. "Surely it isn't a difficult task."

"I don't know who the hell you are," he says, the soft pink in his skin darkening, "but you can fetch your own damn horse."

"How do you not know—?"

The sentence dies when she hears raised voices in the distance. Her heartbeat quickens. One of the guards must have betrayed her and informed her mother of her plot. She reaches for her coin pouch to pay the stable boy to keep his mouth shut, but the speaks first.

"They're here for me," he grumbles.

"You? Why would they be here for _you_?" Astoria asks, wondering if perhaps he is more criminal than servant, if she should scream bloody murder and rush to safety.

"Because I'm supposed to marry some princess I've never even met," he huffs. "At least they allowed me to court the last attempted engagement, though Queen Pansy was a nightmare."

Astoria stares at him, and she finally truly sees him for the first time. He is far too clean to be a servant. His clothes, now that she's really paying attention, are much too fine to belong to anyone other than nobility. "You're Prince Draco?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

With a roll of his icy blue eyes, Draco offers her a mock bow. "At your service," he says dryly. "I don't care to know yours. Fine clothes, but you lack the grace of a princess. One of her ladies in waiting?"

Before she can answer, he turns on his heel and stalks off, muttering something about taking off on foot instead. For several moments, Astoria can only stare after him, shocked into silence by his rudeness. Finally, she shakes her head and moves forward. It doesn't matter if the guards _are_ searching for Draco; if they find her, she'll be dragged back to the castle as well. She shudders at the thought of the scandal this could cause.

"Why are you running away?" she asks, following behind him.

"Because I would rather not marry someone I don't know," he says without bothering to look at her. "She could be some dreadful, ugly hag, and I would still be expected to marry her for the good of the kingdom."

"She isn't," Astoria says quietly, scowling at the back of his head.

Draco snorts. "Of course you would say that. You're one of her ladies." He glances over his shoulder. "Well? Do you plan to follow me all night."

"Yes. You aren't the only one running away."

He looks like he wants to argue. Instead, he shrugs and gestures for her to follow him into the woods. Astoria hesitates. She has heard terrible story about pagans and other heretics who have made a home in the woods. Her father has always told her and Daphne how dangerous it is.

"Well?" the prince urges.

Astoria takes a deep breath and nods, deciding to abandon all logic and follow him into the unknown.

…

Astoria doesn't know how much time passes. Keeping track is next to impossible in the disorienting pitch black wilderness. But she doesn't care. Draco's hand has been on hers, gentle and reassuring, and he's talked to her for so long that she feels like they've known each other for an eternity.

It seems impossible, but she thinks that that maybe she could love him after all. Not now, but one day.

"Why are your parents so eager for you to marry?" she asks as they come to a stop near a stream.

Draco huffs and sits down, gesturing for Astoria to do the same. She does, painfully aware that her clothes will be stained with dirt and grass. Somehow, she doesn't actually care, and that's such a liberating realization.

"Father is ill," he explains. "It's only a matter of time before… Well, I'm his only heir, and they want to know that I… It must seem stupid."

Astoria shakes her head, her curls thumping against her face. "No. I understand," she says.

And she does. Maybe not perfectly, as her situation is different, but she knows what it feels like to be pressured by her parents, to have no say in her own future.

"I think… Well, it's a shame you aren't royalty," he tells her. "I think I wouldn't mind marrying someone like you."

She feels him shift beside her. Both lean in, and she wonders if he can hear the way her heart pounds so painfully within her chest. Their lips are nearly close enough to touch, and she wants nothing more than to close the distance between them and kiss him.

As she's about to act on her impulse, she hears footsteps in the distance, and she jumps back. "Pagans!" she hisses.

Draco snorts. "I don't think pagans use lanterns," he points out, climbing to his feet and offering her his hand. "We shouldn't have stopped to rest."

"There you are!"

Astoria recognizes the voice, and relief washes over her. Through the amber haze of the lantern, she can just barely make out Theo's features. If any guard had to find her, at least it's her oldest friend.

"Your mother has been worried sick," Theo continues.

Draco steps forward. "Terribly sorry for any scandal I may have caused. I only hope that you'll spare this innocent lady."

Theo rolls his eyes, smirking at Astoria. "Princess Astoria is many things, Your Highness, but I doubt she's innocent."

Draco turns to her, and she isn't sure what's more prominent in his eyes—confusion or betrayal.

…

"I just want this to be over," Astoria groans.

"It will be," Daphne assures her, adjusting her veil. "Oh! One more thing. Blaise fetched it from our estate in Italy."

Astoria watches with wide eyes as Daphne pulls out a thin silver chain with an emerald heart. The older girl makes quick work of placing it around Astoria's neck.

"It's gorgeous."

Daphne leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "So are you. I'll be back in a sec. Going to if I can steal an eclair from the kitchen. I bet they're glorious."

Once her sister disappears, Astoria stares at her reflection. It's all been such a blur, and now her stomach feels like it's going to twist itself into knots. She wonders if any other future queens have vomited all over their wedding gowns, or if her inevitable embarrassment will be wholly unique.

The sound of the door closing again draws her out of her thoughts. "The eclairs must not be so great if you're back alr—"

When she turns, she isn't face to face with her sister. Instead, Prince Draco stands before her with an amused smirk on his lips.

Astoria shrieks, rushing behind the divider. "You can't be in here!" she tells him, poking her head out so that she can glare at him. "It's bad luck!"

"Oh, are we following tradition now?" he drawls, still smirking. "I thought that was beneath us, given our adventure last night. Might I add that, during that adventure, you lead me to believe you were a lady in waiting."

"You shouldn't have assumed."

" _You_ assumed I was a stable boy."

Astoria shrugs. "Fair."

"I just want you to know… so our wedding isn't awkward—well, more awkward than it already will be—I enjoyed my time with you."

She feels a flutter within her body, tickling her insides. Astoria nods, unable to fight the broad grin that plays at her lips. "I enjoyed it too. You aren't so bad."

"I can say the same about you," he laughs. "I'd better go before anyone sees me. Meet you in the cathedral?"

"I'll be the one in white."

And as she watches him go, she thinks that maybe this isn't such a bad thing, that maybe she can love him after all.


End file.
